


Sanctuary

by CityOfPaperBuildings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Safety, normality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityOfPaperBuildings/pseuds/CityOfPaperBuildings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding out the supernatural is real and happening on his doorstep, Danny resolves to help Stiles any way he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is entirely inspired by this wonderful story from MarieLikesToDraw, without whom this story, and my entry to this fandom, would never have come about.
> 
> This is unbetad so all mistakes are my own.

Junior year did not start well for Danny. Jackson and his family had just disappeared without a word of warning and there seemed to be a great many whispered conversations happening around the lunch table which stopped as soon as he put his tray down. They all tried to act as if nothing was up but Danny wasn’t buying it. He’d overheard words that had no place in the conversations of high school juniors. Words like ‘beastiary’, ‘kanima’ and ‘werewolf’. Whatever was going on, Danny decided enough was enough and he needed some information. Which is how he found himself scaring the life out of Stiles by getting in his Jeep one day after school.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Danny!” Stiles exclaimed after emitting a squawk of surprise. “You cannot just sneak up on people like that!”

“Stiles, I need answers and God knows why but I’ve come to you for them. What the hell is going on?” he asked. “And please don’t bullshit me because I’ve had enough of that from Jackson,” he added quietly. “There is something weird going on in this town and you guys are the ones having the conversations about werewolves, acting all shifty once a month and hanging out with Derek Hale who everyone knows was always a little…off.”

Stiles stared at Danny through narrowed eyes for a minute and then threw the car in gear, heading for his house. “This is going to be a long conversation dude,” he warned.

They ended up in Stiles’ bedroom, sitting on the bed, just looking at each other as Stiles weighed up just how he was going to start when Danny’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Just start from the beginning.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was the comforting tone of those words, the fact that he hadn’t slept properly in months or that he just needed to tell someone else, some other human about all this, that he found the whole story came pouring out. All the little details that had so far gone unexplained and once Stiles started, he found he couldn’t stop and he just unburdened himself emotionally about being this 16 year old who was running around with supernatural forces that he didn’t understand or have any way of really influencing.

Danny was stunned. This was so much more than he could ever have imagined. He rested his head in his hands, trying to process this life-altering information and when he looked up again, Stiles was there trying not to look like he thought he’d just made a massive mistake.

“Hey, I’m fine. This is just...a lot, you know?” he said, waving a hand around. Looking about the room though, he realised there was a lot of stuff in here that regular 16 year olds didn’t have. Next to his lacrosse stick lay a solid looking white bat with markings carved around the hand grip. An old engraved wooden box sat on the desk, silver blades poking out of the side and textbooks on Latin, Ancient Greek and Gaelic were stacked on the floor.

“I know, it was for me too. Listen, do you want in? I can teach you a bunch of stuff and with your computer wizardry I’m sure you could get us into a bunch of websites that have defeated me so far. The pack would be happy I’m sure. Well, maybe not Derek, but he’s never happy so...?”

“I don’t know, Stiles. Let me think about it, yeah?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound ungrateful to be trusted with this secret.

//

Danny lay in bed that night, thinking, his brain running in overdrive. Did he want to get involved in pack business? Spend all night running with wolves, putting himself constantly at risk? Stiles really hadn’t made it sound all that appealing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he carried too much baggage. He couldn’t endanger his parents and his little sister so recklessly. He had no right to make the ground underneath their feet uncertain.

And yet, he felt he had to do something. He couldn’t let Stiles feel alone in this. He hadn’t said as much but Danny could see the relief that came from having another human involved in this. Allison didn’t count, not really. She was too deep in it and Lydia was beyond damaged at having to let Jackson go. She didn’t show it, not outwardly, but the signs were there. Danny had known her long enough to see them.

No, Stiles needed someone on his side because no matter what he said, or how he acted like it was no big deal, Danny could tell he needed an out, a reminder that there was more to life than werewolves and hunters and things that go bump in the night. So until Stiles could tell his dad about this, which seemed a long way off given his overwhelming desire to keep him safe and off the supernatural radar, Danny would be that for him.

//

Danny invited him round the next day after school and Stiles bounded up to his bedroom like he’d been there a hundred times before.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice trying not to give away the hope he felt that maybe, perhaps, he’d have an ally in this ridiculous situation he found himself in and yet couldn’t bring himself to leave. He hadn’t realised until he’d told Danny everything just how much he’d kept bottled up. Scott was great but half the time he was thinking about Allison and the rest he was bounding across the county on all fours.

“I can’t join you. I’m sorry Stiles,” he said quickly, catching the disappointment in his eyes that flickered there for a brief moment before Stiles masked it. “It’s just too much to risk. My sister’s only nine. I can’t put her in that sort of danger.”

“Hey, no, I understand. None of us have the family ties you do,” Stiles replied, getting up to leave.

Danny stood and caught his arm.

“Let me finish?” he asked softly. “I know you took a risk telling me all this and I don’t want it to be in vain. I want you to come here, any time you need to. You hear me? It could be 2am, it doesn’t matter. If you need to escape, you come here.”

Stiles gaped at him for a minute before making a series of noises which Danny interpreted as ‘you don’t have to, that’s too much, I couldn’t possibly’ before he gently clamped a hand over Stiles’ mouth and held his gaze.

“It’s happening,” he said firmly.

Then Stiles let his eyes light up and Danny saw his shoulders lift a little, betraying his relief. A moment later though, his brow was furrowed and he started muttering about ash before taking off in the cloud of chaos that perpetually surrounds him.

Danny woke the next morning to a text from Stiles.

_Sorry about yesterday. Had to talk to Deaton. Had to get enough ash to surround your house. Need to keep you safe._

Danny looked out of his window and saw a thin line of grey powder running across the sill and smiled.


	2. 2.

The first time Stiles turns up at Danny’s house is a Sunday afternoon when Danny is helping his dad repair the fence around the back yard. Stiles just asks what he can do to help and although Danny’s dad is a little puzzled, the three of them work together and the fence is finished in no time. He’s invited to stay to dinner, as a thank you, and he accepts. Dinner table talk revolves around lacrosse as Danny’s dad is a huge fan and watches all of their games religiously.

At the end of the night, Danny walks Stiles to his car.

“You ok?” he asks as he searches Stiles’ face for some hint of what brought him to Danny’s door.

“I am now,” Stiles replies, impulsively dragging Danny in for a hug, relaxing for a moment into the strength and warmth that he needs from him right now.

“See you tomorrow?” asks Danny after Stiles lets go and hops into the Jeep.

“Double Chem with Harris? Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” deadpans Stiles. “See you there.”


	3. 3.

The next time Stiles appears in Danny’s house is significantly more stressful.

Danny wakes to a soft thump and as he switches on his bedside lamp, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sees a Stiles-shaped lump on the floor by his window.

“Jesus, Stiles!” he exclaims, leaping out of bed, a brief flash of relief flitting across his mind that he remembered to put pyjama bottoms on before he went to bed.

Stiles groans a little, lifting his head to look at Danny, eyes revealing the pain he’s in, even in the dim light. Danny lifts him up, in a manner which Stiles would normally find undignified and carries him to the bed. Stiles is, as he so often lies to remind everyone, 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, but like this he looks so much less.

Danny flicks on the main light and the state that Stiles is in makes his breath catch in his throat. He’s covered in a thousand tiny scratches, visible through the thousand tiny cuts in his clothing. His face, Danny is relieved to see, appears to be largely untouched, but his arms have suffered the worst, presumably as a result of adopting a defensive position.

“What even - ,” Danny can’t get the question out.

“Tiny faeries. Lots. Really tiny. Bastard sharp knives.”

“Shit,” Danny breathes. “Stay there,” and then breaks off as he realises Stiles really isn’t going anywhere. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

He scrambles to the bathroom, silently freaking out. He’s not prepared for this, is he? What if Stiles is really hurt? But he decides to cross that bridge later. Right now, he promised Stiles he could turn up at any time and in any state and he’s damned if he’s going to start breaking promises. He finds the first aid kit under the sink and hurries back to Stiles.

“Hey,” he says gently, bringing Stiles’ focus back to him. “Your clothes are pretty torn up and I don’t want to hurt you by taking them off so I’m going to cut off your shirt, ok?” he asks.

Stiles nods and Danny grabs the scissors from his desk and slowly cuts up the middle of the shirt, wincing a little as the dried blood sticks the shirt to Stiles’ skin. The arms follow and then Stiles is left lying on the remains of his top.

The contrast of the old and new blood against Stiles’ white skin makes Danny’s heart still for a moment but then he pulls himself together.

“This is going to hurt a bit,” he warns Stiles as he opens the bottle of antiseptic and packet of gauze. Stiles nods and sets his teeth, determined not to make a noise.

As gently as he possibly can, Danny dabs at the first cut. Stiles stiffens as the antiseptic feels like fire but he makes no sound. Painstakingly, Danny cleans up every cut and after they manage to get Stiles out of his jeans, he cleanses the ones that run scattershot across his legs. The pile of bloodied gauze at his feet grows until at last, they’re done. Stiles motions for Danny to hand him his backpack, out of which he pulls a poultice in a pot, explaining the only way to be sure the faeries haven’t magically harmed him is to treat each wound with this too. Danny slowly rubs it across the length and breadth of Stiles’ body, hesitating every time he flinches but soon it’s done and his room smells like a mixture of the sharp tang of antiseptic mixed with the woody aromatic herbal note from the poultice.

Danny rubs his eyes and looks at the clock. It’s been almost three hours since Stiles fell to his floor. Dawn isn’t too far off.

Stiles sits up and turns to him, suddenly abashed.

“This was a lot to ask. Sorry for just dropping in on you like this,” he says, gesturing to himself. “I just – when we were done, I could think of nowhere else I wanted to be. Thanks for not freaking out,” he adds, laying a hand on Danny’s arm.

“Oh I freaked out,” laughs Danny quietly. “I just did it in the bathroom so you wouldn’t think I was a wimp. The others – are they not worried about you taking off in this state?” he asks.

“I, uh, kinda didn’t give them the chance to stop me,” Stiles admits, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck and then flinching as he brushed over a cut. “As soon as we were done I jumped in the Jeep and told them I could take care of myself. They trusted I knew what I was doing I guess. Anyway, I really should go. I’ve put you out enough,” he says as he heads towards the window.

“No you don’t” says Danny, steering him back towards the bed. “Sleep,” he orders, turning to clear clothes off an armchair in the corner of his room.

“Hey, no, come on man, I can’t take your bed,” protests Stiles.

“You can and you will,” replies Danny in no uncertain terms.

“In that case, there’s more than enough room. Get in,” says Stiles, pointing at the empty half of the double bed.

“You’re sure?” hesitates Danny.

“100% dude. You’ve had your hands all over me, I think we can share a bed!” he jokes.

Danny flushes and hopes Stiles doesn’t notice. He hadn’t thought about it like that until now but now the thought’s in there, it won’t be leaving in a hurry. So Danny flips out the lights and climbs into bed and Stiles turns to face him.

“Thanks Danny,” he mutters sleepily. “Don’t know what I’d have done without you,” he trails off, falling asleep in an instant.

Danny lies there for a few minutes watching Stiles relax, the stress of the experience leave his body as he snuggles into the pillows. Danny makes a mental note to stock up on first aid supplies and closes his eyes against the pre-dawn light.


	4. 4.

After the first night-time visit, Stiles regularly appears in Danny’s bedroom at all hours, battered and bruised, dirty and bloody and exhausted. He’d gotten into the habit though of giving Danny a heads up when the pack were out at night. After the time he’d appeared covered head to toe in the black blood of some hideous underground creature and scared the crap out of Danny they agreed a little warning would be welcome.

Danny’s become used to these visits now and always makes sure Stiles is fine before drifting back to sleep, shifting over a little as Stiles crawls into bed. Danny doesn’t ask where the Sheriff thinks Stiles is when he sleeps over, most nights he’s just glad of the company. 

Sometimes though there is no chance of sleeping and he ends up sitting up with Stiles when he’s too wired to sleep, the adrenaline caused by fear or excitement coursing through his veins. On these nights, Danny talks him down, letting Stiles tell the same parts of the story over and over again to get it out of his system, holding him when his body shakes as the high wears off and the shock sets in. It’s then that Danny will grab Stiles a hoodie and bundle him into bed. Here he is safe. Here he can sleep soundly.

Danny never asks questions about what brings Stiles to his window in the early hours. If Stiles needs to talk he will and when he needs to process, he’s completely silent, opening up only long enough to reassure Danny there’s no physical damage.

Danny’s room brings Stiles back to reality. It’s warm and comforting and normal. There are no piles of old books filled with ancient languages, no pots of herbs, no silver daggers or his book filled with scribbles and sketches of every type of wolfsbane they know about. Here there are schoolbooks and lacrosse gear, pictures on the walls of friends and family, cushions and comforters. And yes, Stiles has all those thing at home too but they’re all tinged with the supernatural. Everything here smells of warm and of Danny. Everything here is untouched and Stiles can breathe.


	5. 5.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and the family is settling down to watch a baseball game when the doorbell rings. Danny answers and is surprised to see Stiles standing there. Immediately Danny runs his eyes over Stiles, checking for injuries.

“Danny, I’m fine,” reassures Stiles, resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “I just wanted to hang out when I’m not covered in dirt or blood or any other disgusting substance. Is that ok?” he asks.

“Yeah, sure, come in. We’re about to watch Giants vs. White Sox so I hope you like baseball,” he says, bringing Stiles inside and propelling him towards the family room.

“Sounds perfect,” he replies, slumping into a squashy couch after greeting the rest of the Mahealani clan.

It turns out Danny and his dad are huge Giants fans and Stiles gets almost as much enjoyment from the game as he does from watching their reactions to it. After the game’s over (which thankfully the Giants won) Stiles helps Danny clear up. When they’re alone, Danny turns to Stiles.

“So really, you just wanted to hang out?” he asks, a note of disbelief hovering in his voice.

“Yeah, man. Your family’s really nice and like I said, we should probably hang out when it’s not 2am and I’m totally fucked up. Besides, I like you. You -,” he pauses. “You feel like a sanctuary in all the craziness,” and with that he flushes, his eyes bright.

Danny looks at him, his heart feeling too big for his chest as it beats loudly in his ears.

“Yeah?” he asks, stepping to Stiles, wrapping a hand round his head, fingers brushing over the buzzcut, thumb dancing lightly over his cheekbone which Danny knows is still a little bruised.

“Yeah,” Stiles replies, bringing up a hand to rest on Danny’s waist.

It’s not the most eloquent conversation they’ve ever had but Danny doesn’t care. They stand there for a moment, staring at each other, breathing quickened until,

“Stiles! Are you staying for dinner?” came the voice of Danny’s mom from the kitchen.

Stiles blinks, as if torn from another world and Danny steps away.

“Yeah, Mrs. M, that’d be great, thanks!” he calls back.


	6. 6.

The next visit Stiles makes is around midnight. He rolls in through the window with the smallest amount of noise (he’s almost as good as Derek at creeping in through windows now) and Danny rolls over to face him.

“Hey,” he murmurs sleepily.

“How attached are you to being asleep right now?” asks Stiles, “because fuck me I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep this ranting to a whisper.”

Danny sits up, rubbing his hands through his hair which results in some caveman-style look which even through the red mist, Stiles finds endearing.

“The ladder’s outside?” he asks, referring to the fold away Stiles now keeps in the Jeep after Danny decided Stiles climbing the tree outside his window in various states of mental and physical distress was probably a bad idea.

“Yeah.”

“Right,” says Danny, pulling on a sweatshirt, “let’s go outside then.”

“Danny Mahealani, sneaking out on a school night!” crows Stiles and Danny’s pleased to have alleviated Stiles’ mood slightly.

They climb down the ladder and end up in the clubhouse built for Danny’s sister at the end of the back yard. It’s a decent structure with a blanket box in the corner stuffed with pillows and quilts. They pull some out, creating a little nest, cocooning themselves safely against the outside world and Danny listens as Stiles rants about everything that’s pissed him off that night. How infuriating Scott is when he’s decided he’s right, how he wishes Boyd wouldn’t just agree with Erica because he wants to get in her pants and Derek! Well Stiles has a whole other level of rage for Derek when he’s being all stubborn Alpha wolf and won’t listen to any of Stiles’ brilliant ideas.

This is the most popular topic of Stiles' rants but occasionally there are times when Stiles just needs to rage about being a 16 year old human caught up in a load of supernatural bullshit he never asked for. He wants to freak out over normal things like who to ask to the formal, not whether he’ll end up getting himself killed one night in a godforsaken part of the forest by some unexplainable creature and leave his dad alone, his whole family wrenched from him before their time.

Danny talks Stiles through these outbursts, these moments when the enormity of the situation becomes too much for him because he knows Stiles. He knows Stiles would never stop fighting to protect the ones he loves because he’s selfless and reckless and despite what he says sometimes, he loves those wolves and knows that they know without him they’d have been dead a hundred times over. So Stiles will never quit. Not while he still has more to give.

And this is why Danny loves him.


End file.
